


looking so lonely (as if you're looking for someone)

by cheolhie (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'M NOT A BAD PERSON, M/M, Multi, Self-Harm, Sexual Humor, THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING I SWEAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 17:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13815693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cheolhie
Summary: “No, I said I'm not hungry. Stop feeding me, everyone's trying to feed me. Everyone trying to force food into my damn mouth is beyond disgusting.”





	1. "it's just my body type"

**Author's Note:**

> This work is purely a work of FICTION! None of the SEVENTEEN members are going through this (as far as CARATs know), and I do NOT condone anorexia/bulimia/self harm! Enjoy the story, and I'll try to update regularly!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How do you stay so skinny, Wonwoo? You have such pretty, skinny hands."

“Where's Wonwoo?”

Seungkwan's head had turned to Seokmin. His hands were nursing a steaming mug as he stood in the doorway of the living room. The older man's question was a good one, and Seungkwan’s expression stitched itself into a frown. He was, yet, saved from answering the question he did not know the answer to by Hansol, who shifted his legs on Seungkwan’s lap.

“Practice room. He wasn't happy with his work today so wanted to slide in an extra hour or so to improve.” Hansol didn't do so much as move into a more comfortable position. His wide eyes flickered across his phone screen, colors illuminating his pale skin.

Seokmin shifted his weight to lean against the door frame, the action pulling Seungkwan's thoughts back in. “Oh. I thought he'd done pretty well today, I don't know why he's being so harsh on himself.” Seokmin moved aside as Jihoon slipped through the doorway, making his way to the kitchen.

“How much are you three willing to bet with me that he's not practicing? He's probably taking the time to… y'know, _‘relax’_ if you get my drift.” Jihoon disappeared around the doorway to the kitchen. Seungkwan heard the creaking of the broken cupboard door over the stove, the clinking of cups.

“Do you actually want to bet? I'll bet.” Hansol shut his phone off and laid it on his stomach, eyes wide still. Seungkwan thought he could still see the reflections of his phone screen flickering in them.

“I'm not betting. Whatever he's doing is his business, and we don't have to know everything.” Seungkwan turned to glare at Jihoon, who'd returned around the door frame and was holding a glass of juice. “How would you even find out if he was… _y'know,_ anyway?”

“I'd ask him.”

And Jihoon did ask Wonwoo that night. In fact, Seungkwan found himself stuck between the two at dinner. All thirteen of them crowded around a small table, chattering. Jihoon had leaned over Seungkwan's back, smiled, and asked in a sickly sweet voice;

“Wonwoo, were you really practising today, or were you taking the time to – ah, how should I word it – _’relax and unwind’_ if you get what I mean?”

Wonwoo had apparently understood exactly what Jihoon meant. His fork clattered to his untouched plate of food with a loud ringing noise, and he flushed a furious red. A red that went all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I, as a shocking matter of fact, was _practicing._ You're incredibly immature, Jihoon.” Wonwoo pushed his plate of food away. “I'm done. Goodnight.” And he left, a full plate of food sat in front of his vacant seat. Seungkwan set down his cutlery, and cast his eyes round the table.

“He hasn't even touched his food.” Of course it was Mingyu to speak first. Seungkwan spared him a glance before turning to Jihoon, who had a sick look of satisfaction dusting his sharp features.

“I'm done too.” Seungkwan's plate was half empty, but he got up and vacated his seat nonetheless, leaving to his room. As he passed the bathroom, he heard the shower running, which confirmed to him where Wonwoo had run off to.

It wasn't long until Hansol and Myungho joined him, lying either side of him in the small bed. They stayed like this for several long, silent minutes, until Myungho spoke, breath ghosting along Seungkwan's neck.

“Seungcheol is giving Jihoon a roasting as we speak. You know how important he finds our group dinners, and he's mad angry that Jihoon was acting so immature.”

Seungkwan didn't speak, mind whirring and clicking as he processed the words.

“Why did you leave so soon?” Hansol spoke this time, voice all soft edges and trailing ends. He was rubbing his cheek along Seungkwan's shoulder. Gently, kindly.

“Jihoon shouldn't be so _nosy._ He gets so mad when we get nosy, it's just…” Seungkwan stiffened, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Has Wonwoo eaten today?”

“I don't think so. It must be why he was so crabby at dinner.” Came Hansol's reply.

Seungkwan wriggled, loosening the grip of the men either side of him. “I'll go and take him a small plate of something. I'll be back soon.” And he left, socks letting him quietly pad down the hardwood floor of the hall and into the kitchen. He found Seungcheol leaning against the counter, a glass of water in his hand.

“Here for a snack, Seungkwan?” He swirled the water in his glass and offered a weak smile at Seungkwan's sudden appearance. He was tired, that much was obvious. Deep circles etched under his eyes, colored dark with sleepless nights. His hair and skin were dull. Seungkwan frowned, and shook his head, smiling in return.

“I was actually going to collect some food for Wonwoo. According to Hansol, he hasn't eaten all day, so I wanted to take him something.”

“Mingyu came earlier and took him something. He hasn't come back though. Are you saying Wonwoo hasn't eaten today? Mingyu's trying to coax something into him. We all need to eat regular meals to keep our energy up. Especially Wonwoo, he's always found it hard to maintain a healthy weight.” Seungcheol opened the creaky cupboard and pulled out a glass, and turned to fill it at the tap. “Take him a drink, though. I'm correct in saying that Mingyu forgot to take him one.”

“Thank you, I will do. And you should take your own advice, you've been looking rather worn out lately. Rest and eat well, we can't have you falling ill.” Seungkwan sent a parting wave Seungcheol's way, and padded out of the kitchen once more.

The door to Wonwoo's room was ajar, a slice of orange light cutting into the darkness of the hall. Seungkwan raised his hand to push open the door, but hesitated. He heard hushed voices coming from inside, and chewed his lip.

“Eat. A little bit. You'll feel better, yeah?” Mingyu's voice. It was rough at the edges and worn thin. Seungkwan heard rustling from the other side of the door. “Please eat, Wonwoo. Please. You're not looking all that healthy.” Mingyu was pleading, voice high and nearing distressing territory. Seungkwan took a small step back, and hardly caught Wonwoo's quiet reply.

“No, I said I'm not hungry. Stop feeding me, everyone's trying to feed me. Everyone trying to force food into my damn mouth is beyond disgusting.”

Seungkwan clasped his hand over his own mouth and stepped back again. His eyes burnt holes into the door in front of him. What was he supposed to do, supposed to say, after hearing Wonwoo say such things?

“Please leave, Mingyu. This isn't your room.” More muffled rustling, and Seungkwan panicked and knocked on the door.

“It's Seungkwan. May I come in?” There was momentary silence, and Seungkwan contemplated turning around and going to bed. The door opened a few heartbeats later, and Mingyu's blotchy face peered down at him. “Come in.” It was the same scratchy voice he'd heard moments ago, a widowed sigh wisping out at the end of his short sentence.

Wonwoo was sat on the edge of his bed, back hunched and eyes dull, peering up at Seungkwan. There was a plate of food on the floor at his feet. Mingyu shut the door and took his seat next to the plate, looking up into Wonwoo's expressionless face. The sight broke Seungkwan's heart.

“I bought a glass of water. Seungcheol told me that Mingyu had already bought you some food, but I wanted to be of some help. I have some water for you instead of more food, in case you've lost your appetite.” Seungkwan held the glass out to Wonwoo, who took it and sipped at it, eyes softening to cast him a grateful look. Mingyu, still at Wonwoo's feet, made a sad noise in the back of his throat, and picked up the plate again.

“Eat? Please?” Wonwoo shook his head, now holding the empty glass, and Mingyu's shoulders sagged. Seungkwan frowned and chewed his lip again.

“Wonwoo. Instead of something heavy like what Mingyu's offering you, how about something like… Fruit? It's small and light and low-calorie, if you're worried about that.” Seungkwan scuffed his foot on the floor, and Mingyu shifted, leaning towards Wonwoo. An orphaned look of hope dashed across his charming features.

“That sounds nice. Thank you, Seungkwan.” Wonwoo stood, and Seungkwan took a step back. Mingyu rose just as quick, and Seungkwan cleared his throat and opened the door. The two men followed him to the kitchen, where every trace of Seungcheol was gone, save for an empty glass upturned on the metal counter.

Seungkwan took some fruit; an apple and orange, and cut them into thin slices on the clean counter top. Once he'd washed the slices and put them in a bowl, he slid it over to Wonwoo, who stared down at it for a few long seconds.

“You don't have to have all of it.” Mingyu's voice was quiet, and he took an apple slice and held it out to Wonwoo. “Open up.” There was a moment where nothing happened. A proposal dangling contemptuously in space. Seungkwan expected Wonwoo to get up and leave. But, instead, he leaned forward and took a bite out of the apple. His bottom lip brushed Mingyu's fingertip, and he sat there chewing.

Mingyu's face broke out into a smile, his eyes softening as he watched Wonwoo. The rest of the apple slice was still between his thumb and forefinger. Seungkwan turned away and grabbed Seungcheol's empty glass and refilled it. “I’m going to bed. Eat as much as you can, Wonwoo. Thanks, Mingyu.” He smiled and left, shoulders hunching over in exhaustion.

Hansol and Myungho were lying together on the top bunk when Seungkwan returned to their room. Their foreheads, pressed against one another, as they spoke in hushed voices. Seungkwan set his glass down on a small table and sighed, and the two turned to look at him.

“You look exhausted, Kwan. Come up here.” Myungho pouted, his forehead creasing and chin dimpling. Seungkwan pulled himself up to the top bunk and laid on top of Hansol and Myungho, who sat and combed his hair until he fell asleep.

\- •° . °• - 

Mingyu woke in the middle of the night. He lay, staring at the slats on the bottom of the bunk above him; Wonwoo's bunk. He realized that the mattress wasn't pressed through the slats as it usually would have been. His bed was empty, and the door of the room he shared with Junhui and Mingyu himself, was open.

The threads of light that stretched across the room were coming from across the hall. Without disrupting Junhui in the lone single bed, Mingyu pushed back the covers and slipped out of the room.

The bathroom door, Mingyu found, was not shut, rather left ajar like the door to his room. He hovered outside, listening to the tap running, and broken whispers hanging in the warm air.

“You should have told me, hm?”

“It's not too bad, I can deal with it alone.”

“But you can't. It's not something to mess with, Wonwoo. It's a dangerous thing.”

“I know. I'm careful.”

“I can ask Junhui to swap rooms if you want me to. I'd like to help out a bit here.”

“I said I can deal with it.”

Silence. Ringing, ear-splitting silence.

Then; quieter this time.

“Something's bothering you.”

“Nothing's bothering me.”

More silence. Someone cleared his throat, and Mingyu managed to pinpoint the owner of the voice. Seungcheol.

“That’s a fat fucking lie Jeon Wonwoo and you know it. If it's a problem with one of the members then I suggest you take it up with me. I'd rather management doesn't catch on.”

“It's not a problem with a member.”

“Then what is it?”

“It's a problem with me, okay? Let me deal with it.”

Mingyu heard the rustling of a towel as the water got switched off. He scurried back into his room, lay in bed, and listened to Wonwoo's shaky breaths as he heaved himself up into the top bunk.

Morning came all too quick - a rare day off in which Mingyu found himself seething over a gleeful Jisoo, who was gripping a video game controller with two large hands.

“That's another win!”

“Via _cheating,_ you snake.” Mingyu turned and handed the controller to Chan, then left to get a water bottle from the fridge.

Sunlight was streaming into the kitchen, bright and blinding. It gave Mingyu the perfect lighting to witness Seokmin crowding Seungcheol against the counter, nibbling his earlobe and whispering. Seungcheol’s face was a brilliant shade of red. Mingyu took a startled step backwards, straight into the door frame.

“Hey. No offence but I'd rather not see that kind of stuff in the kitchen.” Mingyu scratched at his jaw and flashed a sheepish smile at Seokmin, who slipped past him and into the living room, ears bright red.

“Sorry about that. How'd you sleep last night?” Seungcheol threw Mingyu a bottle, and leaned against the counter. He gave off such a natural feeling of nonchalance. Mingyu was almost fooled into thinking that he didn't actually stumble in to find Seokmin pressed against Seungcheol. That he didn't see the older man's commanding streak ripped back by some hushed words.

“I slept like shit, actually. How'd you sleep?” Mingyu considered mentioning what he'd overheard the previous night, but brushed it under the mat. He didn't want to intrude anymore on what was personal matters.

“Yeah, I slept shit too. It's too hot in the dorms to actually sleep.” Seungcheol clicked his tongue and pushed off of the counter. “Nice talk.” He patted Mingyu on the shoulder, then left the kitchen.

\- •° . °• - 

The stars were only just beginning to fade when Wonwoo woke up. It was still dark, Mingyu and Junhui still letting out quiet puffs of breath from their beds. Seungcheol had tried to speak to Junhui about switching rooms, but Wonwoo had stepped in.

_Thankfully._

Wonwoo made sure he was quiet in the kitchen – opening drawers and taking cutlery. He sliced an apple. In half. Quarters. Eighths. He washed the slices. Arranged them nicely on a plate. Took a fork, set it down on the counter with the plate. He filled a glass with water, and set it down next to them. Then, he picked up the fork and stabbed a slice of apple.

One bite. A sip of water.

Another bite. Another sip of water.

The sun was rising by the time Wonwoo had finished his apple. The warm colors of the sun were seeping between the buildings in the city like sand between fingers. Wonwoo washed his dishes, then set them on to the counter to air dry.

If he leaves dishes behind, everyone will know he's eaten something, and leave him be for a while.

Soonyoung was first to wake, after Wonwoo. He found the man leant against the kitchen counter, holding a glass of water.

“Wonwoo. It's early, are you okay?” Soonyoung opened the fridge.

“I'm fine, just had an unsatisfactory sleep.” Wonwoo took a sip of his water.

“Why's that?” Soonyoung grabbed a loaf of bread, voice scratchy and rough.

“It's too hot in the dorms to sleep.” Wonwoo sniffed.

“That's true. Toast?” Soonyoung shut the fridge and waved the loaf of bread at Wonwoo.

“I’m okay.” Wonwoo smiled.

Soonyoung squinted at Wonwoo for a heartbeat. “I'm making extra for you.”

The wait for the toast was awkward and uneventful. Wonwoo sat at the table, with Soonyoung, his toast without spread, and a fresh glass of water in front of him.

“I'm not hungry.” Wonwoo pretended not to notice Soonyoung's lashes like ink across his dark skin; fanned out across his cheekbones like the feathers of a beautiful bird.

“Wonwoo, you have to eat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

“Not when it's composed of carbohydrates.” Wonwoo pushed his plate away and picked up his glass.

“Wonwoo, eat a bit, yeah? Chubby cheeks are cute nowadays. A little extra weight never hurt anybody.”

That's how Wonwoo found himself polishing off the first proper breakfast he'd had in months.

\- •° . °• - 

**channie:**  
 _i'm at the gym for a bit, don't wait up on me for dinner. i'll grab something whilst i'm out!!!!_

Jisoo's phone vibrated on the arm of the couch he was sat at, rousing him from his thoughts. He frowned as Soonyoung tapped away on his computer next to him.

“How's Chan been doing during your practice sessions?” Jisoo nudged Soonyoung with his foot as he tapped out a short reply to Chan, fingernails clicking on the screen.

**shuaji:** _that's okay. don't overwork yourself!!!!!!!!!!_

“He's been working really hard lately. His passion is somehow showing through even more, it's nice to see.” Soonyoung's typing faltered as he glanced over at Jisoo. “Why are you asking?”

**channie:** _yeah, sure thing._

“Oh, no reason. I want to make sure no one's overworking themselves, yeah?” Jisoo smiled and locked his phone. Chan's reply and lack of exclamation marks churned his stomach.

“That's understandable. Chan said he wants to get better and better. He also mentioned he's been changing up his workout routine to involve more dance and cardio. He doesn't want to gain a ridiculous amount of muscle. He said it looks funny when dancers are strongly built.” Soonyoung laughed and resumed keying away at an email.

“Oh. Okay.”

\- •° . °• - 

It was late when Chan slipped through the door of the dorm, clothing damp with sweat. Wonwoo was the last person up. He was slipping out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, as Chan approached him. His face was still flushed from the gym, and a thin sheet of sweat made his body shine in the low lighting of the dorm.

“Hey, how was the gym?” Wonwoo's hair dripped cold water down his back as he turned to look down at Chan.

“Good! I've changed up my routine so I can burn more fat and lose muscle mass. I don't like looking so bulky.” Chan laughed and smiled up at Wonwoo, who shifted and readjusted his towel. There was an awkward silence as Wonwoo smiled back at Chan. The younger's eyebrows had begun to furrow, and teeth had started chewing on his lip.

“How do you stay so skinny, Wonwoo? You have such pretty, skinny hands. I'd love to be skinny like you.” Chan gestured at Wonwoo's figure, mumbling, eyes betraying him.

Wonwoo froze, hyper-aware of his ribs pressing against the skin of his chest. Of his hipbones jutting out from under the towel around his waist. Of his bony elbows and prominent collarbones.

“It's just my body type.” He replied, turning away. “You look fine, Lee Chan. You look fine as you are.” Wonwoo threw a small smile over his shoulder as he opened the door to his shared bedroom and slipped inside. He ignored the slight pang of hunger his stomach groaned with.

“It's just your body type, huh?” It was Mingyu's voice that split through the air. He was still in his bunk bed, facing the wall, expression unseen. His voice laced with a wistful venom; bitter and encompassing. Wonwoo couldn't help but let it crawl under his skin.

“Yeah, it's just my body type.” Wonwoo opened a set of drawers and pulled out a large shirt, careful not to disrupt the sleeping Junhui.

“What sick bullshit is that?” Mingyu's bed creaked as he rolled over to face Wonwoo. “You're starving yourself, Jeon Wonwoo, don't think I don't know.” His voice was a low whisper, cutting across the thick atmosphere that blanketed the room.

“I have no clue what you're talking about, Kim Mingyu.”

“Why are you doing it? What's it going to achieve? You're killing yourself, painfully and slowly. It won't bring about anything good.” Wonwoo could almost hear Mingyu's tears as they rolled down his face.

“At least I'll die pretty.” Wonwoo pretended not to hear Mingyu crying into his pillow as he climbed up into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you'd like for me to continue this!


	2. "there was a misunderstanding"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mingyu he's gonna tell Seungcheol. He can't tell Seungcheol. I'm gonna ruin everything! Let me stop him please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this has been a long time coming, I've been struggling with my own eating habits and have been restricting again :( I'm actually really disappointed in this chapter, it sucks a lot and I'm lost with where to go with this, but enjoy nonetheless!

When Soonyoung woke up the following morning, Chan was nowhere to be found, and Jeonghan was lacing up his sneakers at the door.

“Where are you off to? It's six in the morning. And where's Chan?” Soonyoung blinked and rubbed at his face. The glaring light of the dorm was too bright.

“Chan's at the gym again, and I'm just about to head off to meet him. Tell Seungcheol we'll be back by ten.” Jeonghan stood, duffel bag hanging at his side, and left. Soonyoung simply huffed and turned around to make his way into the kitchen.

But the kitchen wasn't empty. It was echoing with a ringing silence, the white countertops reflecting cold light off their surfaces, but Wonwoo was sat at the bar. He had a small plate of apple slices and a glass of water in front of him. Everything was untouched. He was staring at it blankly, eyes vacant.

“Wonwoo?” Soonyoung's soft voice made the other man jump and knock his glass of water, which went crashing onto the bar, spilling everywhere. Soonyoung rushed forward to right the glass whilst Wonwoo rose to grab a cloth.

“What are you doing, Wonwoo? Are you alright?” Soonyoung moved the plate of apples and watched Wonwoo wring out the wet cloth. “Why are you sitting out here so early?”

Wonwoo threw the cloth into the sink and leaned against the counter. “I'm just fine, Soonyoung.” His words were clipped, sharp. They carried a sense of finality that Soonyoung didn't want to think about too much.

“Apples for breakfast isn't enough. I'll fix you something better.” Soonyoung made to stand, but almost fell over as Wonwoo's bony fingers wrapped their way around his wrist. “Wonwoo?”

“Don't, I'll be fine.” Wonwoo's eyes were round, searching Soonyoung's own with terrifyingly frantic movements. “Please, don't. I don't want people feeding me. Please, Soonyoung.” His nails dug into Soonyoung's wrist.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable or something?” Soonyoung winced. Wonwoo had long nails.

A moment of hesitation.

“Yes. I prefer doing things myself.”

Soonyoung wriggled his wrist from Wonwoo's iron grip. “Okay. Sorry.” 

Wonwoo just smiled at him, a thin line. His eyes were still vacant.

“Would you like a coffee instead?” He rose again and watched Wonwoo's face closely.

“Yes, please, no sugar.”

\- •° . °• - 

“Hey, where's Chan? He wasn't in his bed when I woke up.” Seungcheol had slid up next to Soonyoung, who was washing his and Wonwoo's dishes.

“Jeonghan told me to tell you that he and Chan went to the gym. They'll be back at ten, though.” Soonyoung leaves the last mug to air dry on the bench, and empties the sink.

“The gym? Again? What has gotten into those two, I'll never know.” Seungcheol's face was etched with lines of worry, ridges and bumps Soonyoung wished to smooth out and shape flat with the tips of his fingers. He heard someone shuffle into the kitchen, and peered over Seungcheol's shoulder at Wonwoo, whose eyes were flashing with panic.

“What's happening?” He was tugging at his sleeves, long fingers pulling loose strings as if playing an instrument whose sound was falling on deaf ears. Seungcheol answered first.

“We're discussing the whereabouts of Jeonghan and Chan. Soonyoung here has so _delightfully_ informed me that they're currently at the gym. Whilst that doesn't surprise me as far as Chan is concerned, Jeonghan is another story. I don't know why he's so desperate to exercise, he must be trying to lose some weight. They'll both be bone soon if they don't stop.” Seungcheol turns to the fridge and opens it, hand knocking about for a bottle of water.

Wonwoo shifts, and Soonyoung watches him suck his bottom lip in between his teeth. Seungcheol sends them both a polite smile and walks out, leaving them to stare at one another in screaming silence.

“Why didn't I think of joining them?” Wonwoo's voice is merely a whisper as he shuffles to the fridge to grab a bottle, mirroring Seungcheol's movements from moments before.

Soonyoung shouldn't respond, he knows he shouldn't. He can't help himself. “You don't need to Wonwoo. You look fine.” He leans against the counter.

Wonwoo shuts the fridge door with an unnecessary amount of force and turns to Soonyoung, eyes flat and steely. “Fine? I look fine?” 

“More than fine. You look good, Wonwoo. Don't mess about with things that shouldn't be messed about with.”

Wonwoo blinks and leaves the kitchen.

\- •° . °• - 

Wonwoo's completely enraptured in the book in his hands, except he's not. He's looking over the top of it at Soonyoung, who's mindlessly flicking through television stations, lithe fingers flitting across the remote control. Wonwoo isn't reading, rather envying Soonyoung.

Because he can see the white skin of Soonyoung's small wrists peeking out from the long sleeves of his black shirt. Wonwoo’s eyes are cutting and sculpting out the planes and angles of his small waist and sharp hip bones, angular features and soft skin. Wonwoo's so envious. So envious, in fact, that he doesn't register Soonyoung talking to him until the man's eyes are burning into his own.

“Finished?”

Wonwoo purses his lips.

“As I was saying, do you want to grab dinner tonight? I’ll see if some of the others want to come too.”

Wonwoo wants to save himself the awkwardness of a one-on-one dinner date, so he agrees. He looks back down at his book again, but feels a second pair of eyes boring into his head, so looks up again.

“I can come, if you're okay with that. I think it'd be nice to eat. Together, I mean.” Mingyu sits on the arm of the chair Soonyoung's on. He's pointedly aiming each word at Wonwoo, even though his leg is brushing against Soonyoung's in a way that makes Wonwoo want to scream. He doesn't scream, but folds the corner of the page he's on instead, and sets his book down.

“Okay. See if Hansol, Seungkwan and Myungho want to come as well.” Wonwoo gets up and leaves, muttering out a quiet greeting as he shuffles past a sweaty Jeonghan in the hallway.

\- •° . °• - 

Wonwoo is pushing his salad around his plate. Of _course_ he is. Seungkwan, Myungho and Hansol had agreed to go out to dinner, and were filling the heavy silences with laughter and lighthearted chatter. Mingyu watches as Wonwoo takes a measured sip of ice water, the rim of the glass clinking against his teeth. Soonyoung’s shaking his leg under the table, and Mingyu’s grinding his teeth to stop from kicking him.

It's tense. Mingyu knows that Wonwoo can feel it, and Hansol keeps shooting glances over towards the two of them. It's so tense and Mingyu wants to get up and walk out, but he needs to make sure Wonwoo eats something. It's a rhythm in his head as he watches Wonwoo; _Finish the food, finish the food!_ Wonwoo looks up suddenly, and Mingyu can't tear his eyes away fast enough.

There's silence. Itching silence, then Wonwoo's cutlery clutters against his plate.

“I have to go to the bathroom. Please excuse me.” Wonwoo pushes his chair out from the table, but Mingyu’s firm hand on his thigh stills him.

“No. Sit.” His stare is level, and Seungkwan’s stopped laughing from the end of the table.

“Mingyu I have to use the bat-”

“No, you don’t. Sit.” Wonwoo can see the muscle in Mingyu’s jaw jumping, so he sits and folds his hands in his lap. Mingyu lets go of his leg.

“Mingyu, if he needs to go to the bathroom, you can’t stop him.” Soonyoung’s brows are knitted together as he mouths around his fork. Myungho nods, a frown on his face, and Wonwoo shifts uncomfortably.

“It’s okay guys, I don’t really need to anymore.” 

“Wonwoo, if you need to-”

“He doesn’t.” Mingyu glares at Myungho over the rim of his glass. Myungho’s mouth audibly shuts with a snap, and Hansol drags his knife across his plate awkwardly. 

Wonwoo picks at the skin peeking through a rip in the knee of his jeans. He picks and picks as his head swims. He vaguely notices Seungkwan resuming conversation, and he feels Mingyu’s voice from next to him. But, there’s nothing. His mind is blank and his leg is bleeding but he doesn’t care because he can’t _feel_ it, so why does it matter? 

A few minutes pass. Minutes he spends picking at his skin and staring at the table, but he’s shaken out of his trance by Soonyoung, who’s nudging his leg under the table, worry plastered all over his features.

Wonwoo looks up. Soonyoung’s startlingly sharp eyes are burning, burning, _burning_ into his face, melting skin and seeping through bone. He smells blood, feels it slick on his leg and fingers, and for a shocking moment he genuinely believes that Soonyoung _has_ burnt through his skin. Before he can move, Mingyu presses a handful of napkins to his knee, and is swearing under his breath.

“Get… G-Get off.” Wonwoo pries Mingyu’s hand off of his knee, and pushes his chair back from the table. The water in his glass sloshes over the rim from the force of his movements, and Wonwoo can feel five sets of eyes boring into his back as he walks away.

The bathroom’s empty. Cold and empty. The tap is dripping, a steady _plunk_ of water echoing across the white tiles. Wonwoo slides into one of the stalls and locks it. His head is swimming as he drops to his knees in front of the toilet. The air is filled with a slow, heavy buzzing that digs into Wonwoo’s brain as he throws up into the toilet. He doesn’t hear anything for a while, just the relentless _humming_ filling his head. He doesn’t hear the door of the bathroom swing open, and slam shut, or the footsteps across the room.

“Wonwoo? Open the door.” 

It’s Soonyoung’s voice. His knuckles are drumming lightly against the door as Wonwoo’s world stops. He panics and flushes the toilet, the buzzing in his head rising into a deafening roar. He shuts the lid of the toilet and sits down, then unlocks the door.

There’s silence. Such a tense silence that Wonwoo is afraid his bones might snap and that the walls of the bathroom will crumble. Soonyoung crouches. He crouches on the dirty floor of the restaurant bathroom, so he can be eye level with Wonwoo, and place his hands on Wonwoo's shaking knees. He purses his lips and Wonwoo looks away.

“Mingyu told me. Only me, not the others.”

Wonwoo lets out a breath. No, not a breath. It’s a heaving sob as he collapses forward into Soonyoung’s arms. His lungs fold in on themselves as he cries into Soonyoung’s nice sweater, sniffling and gulping down huge mouthfuls of air. Soonyoung runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his sweaty forehead. They stay like this for a while, until Wonwoo’s tears stop falling down his face.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo rubs at his face and pulls away slightly.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. Don't lie.” Wonwoo pulls back entirely, and sits back up on the toilet seat. His eyes burn and his throat is so scratchy. He can still taste _everything_ and it makes him want to throw up again.

“It’ll be okay.” Soonyoung stands and beckons Wonwoo over to the sink. “Wash your face.” He turns the tap on and Wonwoo sits and watches the water rushing out as Soonyoung's voice begins to sound submerged.

“Wonwoo? Wonwoo!” Soonyoung shakes him, and pulls him up from the toilet seat. “Jesus Christ you need to eat something substantial, your brain can't cope like this Wonwoo.” Soonyoung leans against the counter.

“Face, wash. Now.”

Wonwoo's body goes into autopilot as he leans over the sink and washes off his face. He tells himself that Soonyoung's hand isn't rubbing small circles on his back, but he can see what's happening in the mirror, and chooses to remain indifferent.

\- •° . °• - 

Mingyu leads Wonwoo down the dorm hallway when they get back from dinner, after kicking off their shoes, and Soonyoung slips into the kitchen. He gesturs at Seungcheol who's standing in the doorway between the hallway and living room.

“It's important.” Soonyoung ignores Wonwoo's panicked face and quiet protests disappearing down the dark hall, and turns to Seungcheol instead.

“It's about Wonwoo?” Seungcheol sits on the countertop. His hair is messy and he hasn't shaved in a few days. He looks so tired, and Soonyoung's panic for everyone’s health suddenly rises. 

“Yes. We went to dinner and there was a-” Soonyoung hesitated. He didn't want anyone to get into trouble because of their argument. Seungcheol's eyes search Soonyoung's face, worry making itself apparent. “There was a misunderstanding, and Wonwoo left to the bathroom. Mingyu told me that Wonwoo hasn't been eating, and has been throwing up what he has been eating. He’s been starving himself more than his body can handle. and apparently he's been overexercising to lose weight faster. I followed him to the bathroom and I had to clean him up. Only Mingyu, you and I know.” 

There's a long, long, _long_ silence as Soonyoung watches the understanding dawn on Seungcheol’s face. He turns away and gets a glass of water as Seungcheol sits in stifling silence, rocking back and forth on the counter.

“Wait, so-” Seungcheol stops and scrunches his face up. There's more silence as the cogs turn and turn.

“Don't talk to him about it tonight, do it tomorrow. And please don't tell anyone else yet. Please.” Soonyoung gives Seungcheol the glass and walks out.

\- •° . °• - 

“Mingyu he's gonna tell Seungcheol. He can't tell Seungcheol. I'm gonna ruin everything! Let me stop him please.” Wonwoo presses against Mingyu's chest, and tries to slip under his arm and to the bedroom door. It's still ajar, he could run out and stop Soonyoung. He could scream and kick and stomp–

“Wonwoo. Hey, stop. Just stop and breathe. Please calm down, this will all be discussed tomorrow morning.” Mingyu pulls Wonwoo into his chest and holds him there, smoothing down his hair. He feels Wonwoo relax, save for the muffled sobbing and rattling breaths. His fight burns out and he leans into Mingyu, fingers digging into his jacket.

“Wonwoo, lie down in bed, yeah?” Mingyu gently pulls Wonwoo over to his bed and pushes back the covers. “Lie down, get warm.” Wonwoo lets go of Mingyu's jacket and slides into bed, face blotchy and eyes red. Mingyu folds the covers back over his thin body and sighs. 

“Mingyu-” Wonwoo gestures at the empty space next to him. There’s a pause, and Mingyu finds himself holding his breath. “I'm cold. Please.” Mingyu laughs, short and breathy, and slides his jacket off.

“Okay.”

Mingyu slides under the covers and gasps as Wonwoo's cold fingers wrap their way around his arm. “Oh my god you're freezing.” He takes Wonwoo's hands in his own and rubs them softly. Wonwoo hums, low and content in the back of his throat, and Mingyu's heart skips.

“You're so warm.” Wonwoo suddenly shuffles closer. Closer and closer until his feet are entangled with Mingyu's and his head is rested on the curve of Mingyu's bicep and his arms are draped across his chest. “Your feet are freezing Wonwoo!” Mingyu huffs as Wonwoo nods into his arm.

A few long moments pass, and Mingyu becomes hyperaware of Wonwoo's hipbones digging into his side, and his elbows nudging against his stomach. Mingyu shifts and Wonwoo sighs out, a soft sound, and Mingyu stills, everything stopping as he feels Wonwoo snuggle into his side.

“Kim Mingyu you're whipped.” Mingyu's leg twitches as he turns to the door, towards Soonyoung's voice. He's nothing but a silhouette as he closes the door, and Mingyu can feel the depression where he sits on the edge of the bed.

“How did you know?” It's a whisper. Mingyu's aware of Wonwoo's slower breathing and soft snores, and doesn't want to risk waking him.

“You follow him like a lost puppy. He feels the same about you.” Mingyu can see the silhouette of Soonyoung's hand stretch out and grab Mingyu's. 

“It’s you. He likes you. He hates me.” Mingyu entwines his fingers with Soonyoung's.

“That isn't true. Look at him. It hurts I'll admit. I like him, how could you not? He's wonderful, but his heart lies with you, and your heart lies with him.” Soonyoung's hand retreats, and Mingyu finds himself missing the feeling of Soonyoung's fingers laced about his own. “He doesn't like me, his feelings are askew. Let things settle.”

Soonyoung stands and opens the door. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

He leaves, and washes the room in darkness.

\- •° . °• - 

Wonwoo wakes before Mingyu, and crawls over his sleeping body so he can shuffle to the bathroom. Junhui's spread eagle on his bed, shirt lifted slightly, and lashes casting spindly shadows across his cheekbones. There's a crack open in the curtains and the sun is splashing into the room.

The bathroom lights are too _bright,_ frying Wonwoo's retinas and rendering him temporarily blind. He tears through the drawers trying to find his contact lenses, and watches as the room comes into focus as he slips each one in.

He can still taste last nights dinner at the back of his throat, sour and stale, and is fumbling about, through the jar on the counter, for the toothbrush labelled _‘Wonwoo’,_ when a shirtless Soonyoung bumbles into the bathroom, lips in a pout and hair sticking up in every which way.

“I need to pee, get out.” He squints at Wonwoo and scratches absentmindedly at his bare chest.

“Pee when I'm in here, I'm not leaving.” Wonwoo rinses his toothbrush, then knocks about for a tube of toothpaste. The drawers are all full of a dozen shampoo bottles and half-empty eyeshadow compacts, and Wonwoo tears up the whole bathroom in his search. 

“Don't look.”

The only toothpaste Wonwoo can find is almost empty, so he squeezes out the last of it and throws the tube in the bin.

“Mingyu really likes you.” Soonyoung's voice is low, and rumbles in Wonwoo's chest. It's warm and inviting, and Wonwoo tries not to turn and look at his friend who's standing in front of the toilet.

“Don't talk to me when you're pissing, idiot.” Wonwoo spits out a mouthful of foam and snorts. “He doesn't actually.”

“He really does.” Soonyoung pushes Wonwoo aside to get to the sink, and he almosts falls into the bath, making Soonyoung huff out a laugh.

“He doesn't, Soonyoung. He's just being stupid.” Wonwoo blushes, and uprights himself, still clutching his toothbrush as if it's a lifeline.

“You like him, Jeon Wonwoo.” Soonyoung sprays water everywhere and sighs. Wonwoo stops, and waves his toothbrush in Soonyoung's direction, spraying foam everywhere.

“Yeah, maybe a bit, but it's complicated.” Wonwoo turns away, but Soonyoung's goggling at him through the mirror.

“How so?” Soonyoung wipes his wet hands all over the back of Wonwoo's shirt and leans against the doorframe, hands folded across his chest.

“He's…He's not the only person I like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, and thank you so much for holding out on this! My Twitter is @cheolhie if you want to come over and scream at/with me! :)


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